


And All the Fury

by smaragdbird



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Presumed Dead, Rage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Altair thinks Malik dead during a Templar attack on Masyaf, the resulting carnage isn't pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And All the Fury

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this ](http://asscreedkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/856.html?thread=5491032#cmt5491032) prompt.

Altair was woken by getting elbowed in the shoulder. Knowing it was Malik who was an obnoxious morning person and possibly a demon because he didn’t seem to need sleep, Altair growled and hid his head under a pillow.

Unfortunately Malik was as stubborn as a mule and with elbows as sharp as the teeth of a lion. He also had an evil streak a mile wide and knew that Altair was ticklish. His fingers dug mercilessly into Altair’s sides and no amount of flailing seemed to get rid of them until Malik deemed that Altair was truly awake.

To get even Altair turned around and caught Malik’s hand with his left and pulled him down on top of himself with his right hand. “Why are you dressed?” He murmured into the hollow of Malik’s throat that was mournfully empty of his marks. Malik would kill him and display his corpse in a humiliating manner if Altair ever dared to leave hickeys were others could see them.

“Because there’s work to be done”, Malik huffed but he didn’t actually try to get out of Altair’s grip.

“I’m the Grandmaster, I’m giving you the day off.”

“That leaves your work.”

“I’m giving myself a day off as well.”

Malik rolled his eyes and kissed him. It was a decidedly nice kiss but way too short for Altair’s liking. He used his momentary distraction to slip out of Altair’s arms and stood up. “Get up, Novice”, he scoffed.

Altair muttered something under his breath but he did roll out of bed, rather ungracefully. 

“Is that how you set an example?” Malik asked.

“I have to leave some things to you”, Altair replied which earned him a slap with the wash cloth Malik was using. “If I’m perfect in everything, the novices will think I’m a legend.”

“How does your ego even fit into this room?”

Altair non-chalantly checked the ceiling which led to another slap.

“Fine, fine”, he laughed. “Do you have any orders for me, oh wise Dai?”

If looks could kill, Altair would have crumbled to dust a long time ago. Still, Malik leaned in and whispered into his ear, “If you behave, I’ll reward you.” And slipped from the room without another look in Altair’s direction.

/

The Templars came over Masyaf like a locust swarm at midday, helped by Abbas and a handful others from the inside. It was a desperate attempt to recover the piece of Eden and they fought accordingly, no mercy, no holding back, the last resort of desperate men.

Thanks to Abbas they came clothed as Assassins and the chaos was made worse by the traitors amongst the Brotherhood.

Altair knew the blood toll would be high but not as high as theirs. He slaughtered them. No quick kills, no smooth blade straight into the heart or the base of their heads. He tore them apart, ripping them limb from limb and opened their bodies to bleed them out slowly and painfully. Their blood splashed against the walls and spilled over the floor, soaking everything. There was not enough pain he could inflict on them even if they screamed until their throats bled. 

They had killed Malik. Even an eternity in the fires of hell would not be enough.

They had killed Malik, beaten him and spilled his blood into the dirt. They had taken a life that hadn’t been theirs to take and now Altair would take theirs in return. 

He scooped the blood up with his hands to paint the remaining spots on the walls. This place would be a testament to the loss suffered. He hung all but one corpse from the banisters on each side, macabre guards over a library that held no meaning anymore.

Finally he turned to the last one. He had left Abbas alive, bound and injured but alive so far. The man who Altair had once considered a friend looked at him with wide horrified eyes.

“You are mad!”

“Quiet”, Altair hissed as he pushed Abbas onto his back. “You lost your right to speak the moment you chose to betray the Brotherhood.” He straddled Abbas’ lap and took the hidden blade from its place on his arm.

“You’ll go to hell!”

“Malik is dead. I am already in hell”, Altair replied and started to carve. To decapitate someone with a delicate blade like the hidden one was messy, slow and painful.

Altair was finished when the sun set.

/

Altair’s white robes were drenched in blood when he came down to the village to ask after the wounded. Everyone, even the other Assassins were giving him a wide berth.

“Master Altair”, Rauf greeted him unflinchingly upbeat as if Altair hadn’t smeared the blood of a group of Templars all over the walls of the castle. “We have lost fewer men than we thought. In the initial chaos many were reported dead or missing only to turn up alive. Never send a Templar to do an Assassin’s job.”

“How many then?” Altair asked, not sure why he still cared. Malik was dead, killed by a man who had been sworn to protect him and everyone else in the Brotherhood. Abbas’ head now throned on spikes outside the gate but that wouldn’t bring Malik back to him.

“Two: Noivce Tarik and Sister Leila but I fear Brother Khalil will not live through the night.”

They hadn’t found Malik yet then, hadn’t recovered his body to lay it with the others who had fallen directly or indirectly by the hand of a traitor.

“But I am sure you’ll be glad to hear that Master Malik only suffered from a shallow cut to the head. I confess it looked much worse when we found him, but then head wounds always bleed a lot more than other wounds”, Rauf continued in the same cheerful tone.

“Malik?” Altair asked.

“Yes, Master Malik”, Rauf seemed astonished that the news surprised Altair this much. “He is probably up already when he shouldn’t.” He shrugged as if to say “What can you do?”

“Where is he?” Altair was grabbed by the feverish desire to see Malik, to make sure that this was not a dream, not another hope-eating illusion of the Eden Piece.

“Malik!” As soon as Altair saw him he crossed the room and wrapped himself around Malik, hiding his face in the hollow of his throat. There was a bandage around his head and he was walking amongst the injured, helping to organise the chaos as if he had been unharmed. 

He wrapped his arm around Altair’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair. Only when he saw the state of Altair’s clothes he pushed him back. “What happened to you?”

“It’s not my blood.” Altair grabbed the front of Malik’s robe and pulled him closer. “I thought you were dead.”

“So did the Templars or they wouldn’t have left me there. You’d think they’d never seen a dead man before”, Malik scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Not that I’d rather be dead, obviously.” He tugged at Altair’s blood-soaked coat. “You’re getting sloppier with age, grand master.”

“They didn’t deserve a quick death”, Altair said quietly against Malik’s chest, his head resting against his shoulder.

“I see”, Malik sounded as if he understood. He cupped Altair’s face with his hands and made him look at him. “It seems your love is just as dangerous as your pride but I’d rather die from the former than the latter. Don’t go down this path again, Altair, not for me, not for anyone else”, he added as a quiet warning.

“I can only promise you that as long as you are alive”, Altair said honestly.

“I’ll have to take that then”, Malik replied. “And die after you.”

Altair could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [ here](http://smaragdbird.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
